Neal Misbehaves
by colakirk
Summary: Spoilers for Upper West Side Story. One-shot - just cause I loved the episode so much! Father/Son Warning: Contains Spanking. Don't Like, Please Don't Read.


**Author's note:** Upper West Side Story is one of my all time favourite White Collar episodes – I so loved all the father/son references. Thanks to VLWillis for betaing this fic and sending helpful advice my way.

'**Neal Misbehaves'**

Agent Peter Burke knocked the top off his beer and joined his wife on the back porch, recalling the events of the day as he eased his tired old body into a patio chair. "I walk in the classroom and the girls were all glassy eyed like they saw that kid from the vampire movies."

El smiled while considering the young con's talents, "You know, I bet you Neal would be a good teacher."

"Which would validate him even more."

"What do you mean?"

Peter got on a roll, the tone of his voice rising a notch or two. "It's a pattern. Neal misbehaves, but because he's Neal, he doesn't face the consequences. He gets a gold star for it."

El could clearly see there was more to this than met the eye. "This is bigger than this case."

"I have to go on record next week, about what happened with Keller."

"Oh."

"Honey, if you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to."

"I am safe and sound on this patio with you. I am okay to talk about Keller. What's going on?"

Peter lowered his voice, "Only you and I know that Neal was involved with the art theft. There's no trail that leads back to him."

"And Keller confessed to stealing it."

"If I sign off on this case, the art goes back to where it belongs, Keller serves life in prison, and I'm a hero for taking him down."

"But Neal gets away with it."

"Yeah."

"He had the treasure and he didn't leave. He gave it up for us. I think that says a lot about his character." It all seemed cut and dry to El.

"He had the treasure. _That_ says a lot about his character," Peter countered.

"If you ask me, the right man is behind bars."

Peter shrugged. It was difficult to argue his wife's point. Of course he agreed. Still, it didn't sit well with him, particularly after everything Neal had done, to let him off scott free. It went against his strong moral beliefs of right and wrong, and when all was said and done, the young CI had committed a huge wrong.

El could sense what her husband was thinking so she suggested what seemed like an obvious solution to his dilemma, "Why not punish him yourself?"

"Huh, what do you mean?" Peter returned his empty bottle to the table and leaned forward to offer his wife his undivided attention.

"Well…It seems to me that you need Neal to understand that there _are _consequences for his actions, and then you'd be able to move on with a clear conscious. Now I don't mean consequences like going to prison for the remainder of his life-"

"Which may happen if I tell the complete story at the hearing board next week."

"Yeah, so best you do what you need to with that one hon because neither you or I would be comfortable with that outcome."

"So, what do you suggest then?" It never ceased to amaze Peter the number of inspiring suggestions his wife was capable of coming up with over a glass of wine.

"You punish him Peter, off the record. Something just between you and him, kind of like the way we are the only ones who know of his true involvement with the treasure."

"And what sort of suitable punishment do you propose El?" Peter leaned back in his seat and rested his hands behind his head.

"Well…you could negotiate something with Neal, even ask him to suggest something himself. Maybe one month of house arrest. You pick him up and drop him off on the way home from work, all other times he is confined to Junes. Or maybe he could be given extra paper work to take home every weekend for the next six weeks."

"Hmmm," Peter considered as he ran his fingers across his chin. "Perhaps I could confiscate his cell phone for a while and ground him to our house and make him do chores every night."

El chuckled, "You thinking of sending 'Peter Jr' straight to bed without desert?"

"Yes." The agent kept his series tone although his eyes said otherwise, "No desert for naughty boys." Both Burkes chuckled at the thought.

"You know hon, we're joking about it but it's probably exactly what the boy needs."

"What? Less desert?"

"No, someone to hold him accountable and take him in hand when he crosses the line."

"Isn't that what I do already?"

"Yes," El sipped her wine while working out how to reword it. "You do hold Neal accountable, as his boss, as his handler. You make sure your CI falls into line and as much to your ongoing frustration and early onset of grey hair, ensures he follows the rules… in his own twisted version of what's right and wrong. But perhaps you need to take it one step further. Whether you're willing to admit it or not hon, Neal's more than a high-maintenance partner to you, even more than a needy friend. In some ways, he's more like your…" did she dare say it. El had to be careful she didn't freak her husband out too much with the concept.

"Like my wayward son?"

El smiled, "Exactly. It's not a huge stretch of the imagination to go there is it?"

Peter shook his head, "Sadly, no. But only because he acts like a child half the time."

"And the other half, you act like his father."

Peter rolled his eyes but was unable to deny the accusation. "Okay El, I'll give it some serious consideration. The hearing's not until next week so it'll give me time to wrap up the embezzlement scam and then decide what I'm going to do with Junior."

###

Neal trailed the visiting agents with his eyes as they headed down the stairs and out the front door of the White Collar offices. They appeared too casual to be on the verge of making an arrest but nevertheless, Neal only allowed himself a breath of relief once they were on that elevator and heading back to whatever department they'd crawled out from.

It would seem Peter had saved his butt, once again, obviously keeping the more damming details to himself and going on record to sign off on Keller's version of events.

Taking a deep breath to help ground himself, the young CI made his way up to Peter's office.

The agent wasn't at all surprised to see his young charge standing in the doorway, lost for words. Eventually, Peter broke the silence. "We've got an early day tomorrow."

"Got to get a jump on the Mortenson real-estate scam."

"Nice tie," Peter commented. Small talk was not his forte.

"Oh. It was a…thank-you gift from Evan." The young CI stepped further into the room. "I know I-I complicated your life."

"Stop. Don't say anything else."

"Can I say thank you?"

"I told them the truth."

"But you didn't tell them everything."

Peter pushed himself out of his chair and walked over to the younger man, checking the door to make sure they weren't about to be interrupted. "What you did on this case, how you carried yourself… Makes me believe this partnership can work."

Neal swallowed a lump his throat and got a grip on himself so his voice didn't give away his inner emotions. "I know what this opportunity means. Trust me."

"I'm working on it Neal." Peter needed to be honest with the young man. The trust needed to be earned over time, it wasn't just a given. "In the meantime, while it's officially on record that Keller is responsible for stealing the U-Boat treasure and you're off the hook as far as the Bureau is concerned, I want you to know…I need you to know that there are still consequences for your actions."

The young man paled considerably before daring to ask, "Consequences?"

"Yes Neal. Consequences. A word you have very little experience with."

"I did spend four years in prison Peter."

"Yes you did," the agent conceded, "But let's face it Neal, you've gotten away with a hell of lot more than what your accumulated crimes, if tallied correctly, would surmount to."

"Alleged crimes."

"Was your involvement in the U-Boat treasure alleged Neal?"

The young man dropped his head and shook it ever so slightly.

"That's what I'm talking about Neal. What you did, these past few months, hiding the treasure, I want to discuss it with you further. We need to have a private little chat."

"Yes Peter." Neal resisted the urge to sigh as he made a move towards the visitor seat but the older man held out an arm to stop him.

"No, not here Neal."

"No?" the younger man raised his eyebrows.

"I want to have this discussion off the record."

"Oh, fair enough. Do you want to maybe meet and Juliannos? They've got a new summer menu and the lobster bisque has a tantalising sauce that's to die for."

Peter placed his hands on his hips and served the boy with his patented glare. "You done?"

"Yep, all done."

"Good. I want you to come around to my place later tonight, say around eight-thirty."

"Eight-thirty it is. Should I bring anything?"

"Nope, just yourself…and perhaps several really good suggestions as to how you're going to start controlling that impulsive tendency of yours that gets you into trouble in the first place."

"Cake."

"No, no cake, just good ideas." Peter's eye caught Diana who was signaling him to check something out on her desk.

"Yeah, that's what I meant," Neal tried to explain but Peter had moved out of the office and was on his way down the stairs. "Cake, you know, 'easy'," he said to the empty walls.

###

"Evening Elizabeth."

"Hi Neal, come on in." El kissed the young man on his cheek as he passed over a bottle of red. "Mmmm, Rhone Valley Shiraz, trust you to know my favourite after dinner wine."

"It's your favourite? Really?"

El playfully slapped the young man on his shoulder, "Don't act like it's mere coincidence. Besides, I'd be disappointed if you didn't know."

Neal gave a genuine smile, happy in the knowledge that El didn't appear to bear a grudge.

"Come on. Peter will be down in a moment. He's just getting out of the shower. In the meantime, let's pop this bottle open shall we."

"Good plan. Lead the way."

Elizabeth and Neal were sitting at the dining room table, already onto their second glass when Peter finally made an appearance. "You're early," the older man stated bluntly as he sat down, picking up the wine bottle to inspect it for himself.

"And good evening to you to Peter." Neal smiled smugly over the top of his glass.

Peter deposited the bottle back onto the table and addressed his young charge. "I thought I said not to worry about bringing anything."

"That would have been rude, besides you did tell me to bring something…Ideas to curb my impulse control."

The agent folded his arms. "Yes, that _is_ what I said to bring."

"Yes _you_ did."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well, tell me your ideas Neal. I can't wait to hear them."

Neal studied the older man for a moment, and then turned sideways to check Elizabeth's reaction before turning back. "Oh, you were serious?"

"Yes Neal, I was serious." Peter sighed deeply, reminding himself to keep his emotions in check, for the moment.

"Ah, let me think for a minute."

"Tell you what Neal, I'm going to let you think for twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes? I won't need that long Peter. Why I could crack-"

"Neal." This time it was El who interrupted the young man before he pushed her husband clearly over the edge.

Neal buttoned his lip and heeded the warning, sitting up straight in his chair and looking attentively at the older man.

Peter continued, "You're going to need twenty minutes for what I'm about to ask."

"Okay," Neal responded hesitantly.

"I would like you to think about your actions regarding the U-Boat treasure, how you withheld that information from me and also how each of the subsequent choices made along the way would have jeopardized your freedom had any part of your plan come unraveled."

The young man nodded, with sincere seriousness for a change.

"And while your thinking about those choices you made, I would like you to consider an appropriate consequence. Obviously you're not going to be punished in any official capacity but I believe, and if you are honest with yourself, you would agree that your actions warrant some type of repercussion."

Neal gulped audibly before asking, "Like what?"

"Well…that's why I'm going to give you twenty minutes to come up with something appropriate." Peter stood up and El followed suit.

"And what if I can't think of something or if it's not 'appropriate' enough?"

Peter shrugged, "Then I guess we'll all know that you're not as willing to turn over a new leaf as you say you are. Twenty minutes Neal."

Neal watched the agent trail his wife out onto the back porch, concluding that he'd been left on his own so he could have quality thinking time, and all things considered, he would need it. What was he going to say when Peter returned? What did Peter want him to say? What would be enough to appease his partner? What would be enough to appease his own guilt? Could anything appease his guilt? He'd blown it big time with the treasure and his handling of the situation that inadvertently led to Elizabeth getting kidnapped. In all honesty, he couldn't have blamed Peter if he'd dragged him back to the Supermax in chains and thrown away the key.

But Peter hadn't done that. In fact, he had even gone so far as to protect him from that plausible outcome. Peter was definitely showing signs of healing from the pain the younger man had inflicted, the complications he had brought into the agents life.

Now, if only he could do something about the guilt that was eating away at his own insides. His initial plan was to shower the agent with gifts, but that had received a very ordinary reception from the older man. The Yankees tickets had been his first olive branch, but soon after, he had realised, no simple offering would compensate for the damage his deceit had caused. Perhaps what he really wanted Peter to do, was to pick him up and throw him into a wall, maybe deliver an agonizing blow or two into his gut, let off some steam with unconstrained anger directed at the cause of his pain. Realistically though, Neal knew his friend would never do that to him even if it would make them both feel a whole lot better. No, that wasn't right either. Neither of them would feel better. Peter would hate himself and at the same time, he'd be sore and sorry and still in dire need of forgiveness.

"What did you come up with Neal?"

The young man startled at the sound of his handler's voice. "Uh? My time's up?"

"Yep, your time's up." Peter and El both resumed their places at the table.

"Oh…"

"So, tell me what you consider to be an appropriate consequence."

"Uh…" The young man was coming up blank.

"Neal," Peter released a deep sigh, "please tell me you at least gave it some thought."

"Yes, of course. I gave it serious consideration."

"Fine. Tell me what you came up with then."

Neal opened his mouth but no sound came out. He was blank. Sure, he'd given Peter's words serious consideration; he just hadn't gotten up to the part regarding consequences. Perhaps he should have been allowed a more substantial length of time given the complexity of the topic.

"Neal!"

"Uh," he wracked his brain for a suitable response, finally giving way to the first hair brain idea that stumbled out of his head, "Ah, perhaps you should take me out back and beat my arse?"

Peter looked over at El at the same time El turned her head towards Peter, both with identical shocked expressions. It was the last thing they had expected to hear out of the young man's mouth. Peter recovered first. "Neal…you think I should give you…a spanking?"

The young man was possibly equally surprised by Peter's interpretation. "A spanking! No, of course not, I mean…no. I had been thinking about maybe suggesting you slap me around a little but it was just one of those nonsensical ideas that popped out. You see I was thinking about it just before you came in and then when you asked me, I couldn't think of anything off the top of my head so I…" he trailed off after acknowledging his words to be nothing more than babble.

"Well, it's not going to happen Neal. I'm not going to beat you up."

"No kidding," the kid replied dryly.

"But you could give him a sound hiding."

This time, both men turned towards El. "Hon?"

"Elizabeth?"

"Neal sweetie, you deserve some type of punishment, I believe we're all in agreeance to that and I think deep down you suggested Peter beating your backside because you know that's exactly what you need."

"I'm pretty sure that's not what I need, Elizabeth."

"No Neal, El's right. I hadn't considered it before but it seems an appropriate consequence. A good dose of my belt would be quite fitting for your behavior."

"Peter!" the young man was suddenly alarmed as he felt his chances of worming his way out of this current predicament, eroding away from under his feet. "I wasn't serious, surely you know that. I just need more time to come up with a sensible response."

"It was sensible Neal. In fact, it was perhaps one of your more sensible suggestions to date. But to be fair, if you don't think you've earned yourself a spanking then say so and, well, we'll think up an alternative punishment."

Neal considered his partner's words, ever so tempted to scream out his innocence but not so naïve to believe them for a second. "Couldn't we just think up an alternative punishment anyway?"

"No Neal." Peter's tolerance was beginning to wane. "I'd like to get this over with tonight and, I know you really want to also so we can both move on."

"Peter…" the younger man whined.

"Neal, I want you to go upstairs and wait in the guest room for me please."

"Peter! Listen. I'll come up with something, I don't normally struggle so much, I'm ordinarily great with words, I-"

"Con people for a living? Yes we know Neal." Peter reached out across the table and placed his hand on top of his friends. "But it's different now. You don't want to con me any more. I believe that."

The young man dropped his head and when he eventually looked up again, he had tears welling in the corner of his eyes.

Peter tilted his head while resisting the urge to reach out and wipe the younger man's eyes. Instead he asked off topic, "Is that the same suit you wore to work today?"

"Yes," Neal whispered, "I didn't go home, I met Mozzie at Julliannos."

"For the lobster bisque?"

"Yes, it was tantalising."

"I'm sure." Peter rolled his eyes. "But getting back to the issue at hand…Look, why don't you go have a shower, freshen yourself up and… I'll join you in the guest room when you're done."

"I'll get you some clothes to change into sweetie. Come on." El hopped up and held out her hand as she made her way towards the stairs. Neal reluctantly followed, giving Peter one last pleading look that perhaps he may have a change of heart but deep down he knew, the time for pulling a rabbit out of his hat had long passed.

###

Peter folded the thick leather belt into his hand and took several deep breaths before knocking once and opening the door to the guest room. He had to resist a smile upon seeing his young charge sitting on the edge of the bed with wet hair and wearing oversized sweatpants and an old Red Socks supporters tee – the kid looked way younger than he had any right to. The older man collected the desk chair on his way across the room and deposited it within close proximity to the bed.

When Neal looked up and saw what Peter was carrying in his right hand, he pushed himself further back onto the bed and held up a hand. "Uh, Peter, ah, I'm not sure about this. Actually, I am sure…" His eyes grew wider as the babbling increased, "I think this may have been a very bad idea and, ah, I'm sure we can come up with an alternate consequence. Perhaps I can be grounded for you know, the next ten years or something! You don't need to do this to ensure my compliance."

Peter lowered himself into the chair while shaking his head, "No Neal, I'm certain this is exactly what you need. You've been asking for someone to take you in hand for a long time."

"I have not."

Peter ignored the younger man and continued. "In fact, I think you'll find with a few new boundaries and ground rules in place and a clear understanding of the consequences for misbehaviour, you'll feel more freedom than you have in recent times."

"I'm not convinced Peter."

"You don't need to be Buddy. Just trust me to do the right thing by you okay?"

Neal nodded in defeat and dropped his head. He sat silently for a moment or two before whispering, "I've got to confess something to you Peter…I've never been spanked before?"

"Hardly a revelation Neal. I can only imagine the consequence-free rampage you went on in your youth."

Neal chuckled softly, eventually looking up into the older man's eyes. "Yeah, I guess that went without saying but I was talking about even before that. Mom never so much as gave me a slap on the wrist."

"Oh…" that pulled Peter up. "So you're saying never, ever?"

"Yeah…This is going to be the first time. Have you done this before?"

"Well, I've never had to spank someone before so this will be the first time for both of us." Peter ran his fingers subconsciously across the supple leather in his hand, getting a feel for the instrument he would soon be wielding.

"You haven't been spanked before either?" Neal raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh yeah, believe me, I've been spanked." Peter grinned at the memories. "My Dad took his belt to me on a number of occasions so I can tell you I have plenty of experience when it comes to being on the receiving end of a good walloping."

"Did it…hurt?" Neal indicated the belt with his eyes. "I mean, I know it would hurt, but does it hurt…much?"

Peter took a deep breath while reminding himself not to lose his nerve. "Yes Neal. It does hurt and yes, it's going to be mighty uncomfortable for a while. But it needs to be in order to reinforce the message as it trickles through into that tough skull of yours."

Neal shuddered at the thought then sighed in resignation. "So how does this…work? What do I do?" Neal had seen stuff in movies and read it in stories but was actually quite clueless when it came to corporal punishment protocol.

"Well…" Peter considered, "when my dad whipped-"

"Whipped! Who said anything about being whipped!" Neal clambered across to the other side of the bed and jumped to his feet.

Peter also stood, holding up his hand while smiling to reassure the younger man. "No, sorry Neal. It's just a term that's used." He waved the belt in his hand softly to demonstrate. "When you swing the belt, it's like a…never mind." The agent was making it worse with his explanation so he regrouped and started again, "When my dad spanked me…" he paused a moment to see if the colour had return to the young man's features… "I would have to stand facing the table," he indicated the writing table against the adjacent wall, "then I'd have to… pull down my pants and boxers to my knees before bending over the table." Peter paused once more to see how that had gelled with his young charge.

Neal straightened his shoulders and spoke with conviction. "Nope, no way. No way I'm dropping my pants."

"Fair enough," Peter shrugged, "But just so you know, I'll have to give you double to compensate for the fabric of your sweatpants and I also won't be able to see the marks the belt is leaving behind so I wont know whether to lay down the strokes softer or harder. That being the case, I'll most likely assume the later."

"Can't we just go with the 'really later', like sometime in the next decade later?"

"This needs to be taken care of now Neal, so we can move on and put it behind us."

Neal groaned and reluctantly made his way around the bed, his head held low while he moved over to stand beside the older man. "How many?"

"I think for this particular offence, thirty should suffice."

"Thirty!" Neal's eyes once again all but popped out of his head. "Surely you must be joking!"

Peter shook his head. "Fraid not."

"So…how many with my pants down? Fifteen?"

"No Neal, it'll be thirty on the bare. Double that if you want to keep your pants on." Peter knew that number was harsh, but he really didn't want to have to do this again anytime soon and hoped that if he made a lasting enough impression on the kid, it would serve to curb his behaviour for some time to come. "Now when you're ready, well get this over with."

Neal took one step towards the table before turning back, his eyes already wet with pre-emptive tears. "Peter…when I cry you…you won't think any less of me?"

The agent pulled the kid in for a comforting squeeze. "Neal, I'll have you know I cried each and every time my dad took his belt to my backside."

The young con pulled back so he could look up. "But you were just a kid."

"Not the last time. The last time I was a senior in college and I… " Peter decided this was a bad time to bring up some indiscretions from his past, "I was a grown man the last time Dad gave me a thrashing across my bare butt and believe me, I sobbed and squealed and promised to behave if he stopped but he kept going till he gave me the promised amount. And Dad never once considered me childish for doing so."

Neal sighed and looked back towards the writing table. "Are you sure we can't negotiate an alternate punishment?"

"I'm sure Neal," Peter responded caringly, "Now, let's get this over with okay Buddy." He guided the younger man towards the table by pushing gently on his back.

Neal stood facing the table, glanced over his shoulder then in one swift movement, tucked his thumbs under his waistband and pushed his pants to his knees. Not surprisingly, he wasn't wearing boxers, no doubt he would have turned his nose up when El offered Peter's underwear! Then, with one gigantic sigh, the young wayward CI bent himself over the table and tucked his head into his arms.

Peter smiled to himself at the dramatics and came to stand by the younger man's side, pulling up the tee shirt and tucking it up above his butt. "You ready Neal?"

"No." The reply was blunt.

"Well I am." The agent's tone became firm. "I want you to tell me please why you are getting this…spanking?"

There was a long moment of silence before mumbled words broke free from the young man's arms. "Because I didn't report the stolen treasure and I plotted to steal it."

"That's right Neal. Next time you 'stumble' upon something that you know you must report, you will do so without hesitation. Understand?"

"Yes Peter."

"Good." The agent lifted his arm and snapped the belt right across the middle of the young man's backside."

"Owwwwwww! Shit Peter, that fricking stung!"

"A long way to go yet Neal." Peter lifted his arm once more and whipped the belt just beneath the rising welt from the first stroke. The young CI squealed and complained as the belt landed another eight times, all within the vicinity of the first.

The agent stepped back and rested his arm. "Okay Neal, I want you tell me why else you are being punished."

"And if I do can we call it quits and move on?" Neal replied in a high-pitched whimper.

"No son, we can't. You still have twenty more to go."

"Peeeeter," the younger man cried and began to stand but found himself with a heavy hand resting firmly on the small of his back.

"Neal, why else…"

"Uh, because I, uh, because I hid the art right under your nose and looked you right in the eye and made out I didn't have it?"

"And what's that called Neal?"

"An omission? Owwwww!" the young con rubbed at his butt where Peter's free hand had just contacted with one almighty swat. "Peter! I hope that counts."

"No Neal, it does not. So let me ask again….What's that called Neal?"

"A lie," the younger man reluctantly confessed.

"Yes Neal. You lied to me. Not once, but for a considerable length of time. And I dread to think what lengths you went to in order to keep your little secret."

"If I tell you what those 'lengths' were…will you commute this sentence?" The young con pleaded between hitched breaths.

"No, but as you're feeling the pain of these next ten whacks, I want you to think about what pain your lying brings about for those who care about you."

Neal nodded his head while swallowing a lump in his throat. Peter's words cut deep. "Yeowww!" The belt was swinging again, but this time it landed on his upper thighs. "Peeeeter?"

"Yes Neal?" Peter asked patiently as he dropped the belt to his side.

"That…that stung much more than when you were whacking my butt." Neal sniffled. "Can you please not hit there again."

"If I keep hitting the same spot Neal, it's going to….be worse." Peter didn't want to tell Neal it might bruise; the kid was already wound up enough. "Just leave it to me okay. You worry about how you're going to control your impulses in the future so we don't have to do this again." Peter lifted his arm and swung the leather strip, hitting its mark just below the previous stroke.

"Urgggghhhh! No, no more, p-please!" Neal's words were becoming increasingly muffled as the tears streamed down his face. Peter brought the belt down three more times before the young con managed to squirm his way back onto his feet. He spun around to face the older man while wiping his face across the arm of his over-sized tee. "P-Peter. I don't want any more. C-can you please stop."

Peter swallowed hard before putting a caring hand on the young man's arm and turning him back towards the table. "No Neal, I can't." In reality, he so wished he could. He had never realised until this moment how hard it must have been for his own father. "You need to know when you do something unacceptable," _like stealing millions of dollars in treasure_, "there _will_ be serious consequences and I _will_ follow through with ensuring said consequences are dolled out." Peter pushed firmly on the younger man's back so he was once again bent over the table before lifting his arm and delivering another five swats to the upper thighs.

Neal gave up on his pleas and settled for quite sobbing and squeals into his arms. He barely registered that Peter had paused to ask another question. "Finally Neal, tell me please the other reason you are getting this spanking."

"Uh…" It was hard to think of anything other than the fire emanating from his rear end. "Ah, my parole, my freedom?"

"What about it Neal?"

"I-I put it all at risk, on the line."

"And who would that affect Neal, apart from yourself, if you were sent back to prison, most likely for life?"

"Y-You, Elizabeth…Sara, Mozzie….June."

"Yes Neal, all of us would suffer. I want you to start thinking beyond your initial impulse. I want you to begin to consider what impact losing you would have on all of those who care about you."

"I will P-Peter," the young con sniffled.

"I hope so Neal…" Peter truly did hope so. "Ten more."

"Yes Peter."

The agent lifted his arm once more, this time bringing the belt down hard across the younger man's sit spot. Peter knew how much that would smart. He remembered how the stinging pain across his tender under curve had remained long after the burn across his butt had subsided. Peter delivered the final strokes in quick succession, ever so grateful to see this session come to an end.

Neal didn't register the pat on his back to signal the end, nor did he react when Peter pulled up his sweatpants and lifted him up off the desk, guiding him over to the bed. His eyes were too blurry and his quiet sobbing showed no sign of subsiding.

Peter sat down on the edge of the bed and rested his hand on the kid's back while he waited patiently for him to get his emotions under control. The agent recalled his dad doing the same thing after the hidings he had received as a kid and now he was doing the same with his own boy. Peter thought back to those times, just after the spanking when he would lie on the bed, sobbing and sniffing, and how each time he would vow to himself, not to get himself in trouble ever again. Of course, he wasn't perfect so there were times he slipped up, but for the most part, the memory of a painful behind was enough to have him reconsider boneheaded stunts before he put his ideas into action. He could only hope his boy would be sensible enough to do the same because he was more than prepared, as much as he really didn't want to, to carry through with this lesson each and every time.

"P-Peter?" The young con whimpered as he rolled onto his side to address the older man.

"Yeah Buddy?"

"I-I'm sorry."

"I know," Peter grinned. "And I also need _you_ to know that you're forgiven, okay?"

Neal paused before nodding, "Okay."

"That means no need for any more lavish gifts you understand?" Peter rubbed the young kid's hair.

"If you say so."

"I do."

"I guess I can give those Yankee locker room passes away. Someone in the office should want them."

"Neal…" Peter rolled his eyes then pushed up off the bed and retrieved a blanket from the wardrobe. He tossed it over the younger man and all but tucked him in. "Something you should know, kiddo," Peter mentioned on his way to the door. "After spanking rules. You're allowed to rub as much as you want but you are not permitted to sneak into the bathroom to soak wet washcloths to lay across the sting, nor are you allowed painkillers of any description."

"Does that include-"

"Yes it includes obliterating yourself with copious amounts of alcohol."

"I was going to say red wine."

"Is it a pain killer?"

Neal tilted his head while considering, "I guess that would depend on whom you spoke to."

"Well, you're speaking to me, so it's a no on the red wine, now go to sleep."

"Peter I couldn't possibly sleep with my rear end smarting like it is."

"You'd be surprised buddy how quickly you'll drop off after an emotionally draining experience like the one you've just had."

"I find that hard to believe," Neal pondered while he squirmed about the bed, tyring to find a comfortable spot.

"Goodnight, kiddo." Peter rolled his eyes and flicked off the light.

"Goodnight, Peter."

The agent walked down the hall and returned his leather belt to the closet. He leaned against the door and ran tired hands through his hair. It was possible he was even more emotionally drained than his young charge. It was hard work raising a wayward son.

With great effort, he pushed himself off the wall and headed out of the room. El would be concerned after no doubt listening to all the sobbing filtering down the stairs. His trip back down took him past the guest room and he couldn't help but nudge open the door to check in on his boy. And sure enough, there were light snores coming from under the blankets. Peter smiled - perhaps raising a wayward son wasn't so difficult after all.


End file.
